


Brimstone Bleeds Red

by Striker



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Demon!Stiles, Horror, Humor, M/M, Trust Issues, Violence, and the rest of the pack, future!fic, not canon divergent, slow updating, spoilers through season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Striker/pseuds/Striker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that Stiles is possessed by a demon. It's just that Stiles was never NOT a demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This is how I show my love.

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for violence, angst, and snogging. Rating will probably increase for even more violence and sexytimes, hopefully.  
> Betae’d only by me, so I apologize for any and all mistakes, particularly in tenses. Although sometimes it's on purpose.  
> 
> 
> The demon mythos in here is taken almost directly from the show Supernatural, but you don’t need to be familiar with them or the show to read this, all is explained. I tweaked a couple of the demonic characteristics/abilities to make it fit with the story more. If you’re not familiar with the demons backstory/origins in Supernatural, there IS a spoiler in here for that, although I don’t consider it to be a plot crucial one. It's more of a “Wow that's a really interesting tidbit about demons” spoiler. If you’ve seen the episode about Crowley’s origins, then you’re golden.

It finally happened when they were in way, way over their heads.

Like, seriously, this was the actual worst it could get, because they were fighting a _fucking vampire_ and you know all that stuff in movies and books about how vampires and werewolves were natural enemies? Yeah, turns out that's true.

And this wasn’t your useless-sparkly-vampire or even your tragically-trying-to-do-good vampire or even your sneak-into-your-room-to-have-sexy-bite-times vampire. This was an honest to goodness, pasty skinned, bat winged, bald-headed and unhinged mouth vampire with claws and teeth and the whole nine yards.

Including a venom that acted like wolfs-bane to werewolves. Fan-fucking-tastic.

So here Stiles was with three werewolves in a useless heap behind him and Allison shaking next to him (or was that him shaking? Hard to tell) and Derek and Boyd crouched in front of them even though Derek looked like he was about to pass out from an unavoidable scratch. They were snarling at the vampire, who was still standing only because it was better at dodging werewolf bites than the wolves were at dodging its poisonous claws. Plus it was older. Like, way older, we’re talking about a thousand years of experience, so it was no wonder they were having troubles even when it was seven on one. It was still smoking from the silver arrows Allison had delivered it, and shaking on its legs, but terrifyingly enough it was _still standing_ and not only that, but slowly advancing on them, clearly seeing that the fight was going in its favor.

And they would have still stood a chance, really they would have, if Derek wasn’t slowly sinking to his knees and gasping, Boyd trying to support him and keep an eye on the vampire at the same time. Derek was the strongest of them, they all knew that, even the vampire knew that, and it let loose a hissing laugh as their alpha’s knees hit the concrete.

They were done for, Stiles knew that. They were actually done for if he didn’t do something.

 _Shit_ , Stiles thought vehemently as the vampire crouched to attack, _this is going to get me killed._

He was already moving when the vampire launched itself at Derek, its screeching howl rattling his eardrums but Stiles didn’t falter as he threw himself over Derek and Boyd, landing in front of them and raising his arm.

Distantly he heard Allison’s screaming, Boyd hissing in shock, but Stiles was too busy focusing on the vampire, his eyes narrowing, body tensing as he took a breath.

To the others it was a mere second of time between when Stiles was standing next to Allison to when Stiles was standing in front of the vampire, and then time was almost in slow motion as Stiles flung his arm forward and vampire _followed its motion_ , crashing into the wall of the warehouse behind it without being touched. With a crack the building was dented from the force of impact, the vampire dazed and wheezing in its crater. For a moment Stiles’ whole body shook, and then stilled, almost deathly so, and he raised both his arms. Allison, Derek, and Boyd watched in confused horror as the vampire’s body was lifted upwards with Stiles’ motion, the creature snarling and hissing as it struggled against invisible bonds.

“..S..Stiles?” Allison whispered, fear coloring her voice because it couldn't… it didn’t make sense… how could _Stiles_ be doing this?

The boy flinched, turning his head slightly towards her, and the vampire screamed. Allison cried out in pain at the sound and Stiles jerked, hands flailing towards his ears, losing focus for just a second. But it was enough. Still screaming the vampire launched itself at Stiles, moving so fast that Stiles barely had time to put out an arm in defense before the vampire hit him.

With a sickening crunch of bones Stiles flew though the air, almost making it out of the alley before he smashed into a wall.

“NO!” Allison yelled, not quite drowning out Derek’s horrified cursing. Allison started to run to where they could see Stiles’ crumpled body, hands nearly fumbling as she readied the arrow in her bow. Boyd was torn between going to help and supporting his alpha. Everyone had gone pale at the horrible sound Stiles’ body had made on impact. But even as they watched they saw Stiles moving, heard him groaning, trying to stand.

Allison called his name, running faster. Stiles shook his head, jerked, and flung out an arm, this time towards Allison. “ _Stop_!” She froze, eyes wide, leaning forwards as if… as if she had been stopped against her will. They watched as Stiles rose to his feet, arm steady towards Allison, head hung and body heaving from deep breaths. “Stop.” He repeated. “Stay back, please. I can handle this.” And he raised his head.

Cold, solid black hid all trace of color or white in Stiles’ eyes.

Allison and Boyd stilled in shock, breaths frozen and eyes wide, while Derek’s growl got louder, his face an array of horror, confusion, and fear. Stiles looked at him, expression crumpling briefly in sorrow, before hardening again. With a soft twist of his wrist he sent Allison flying back to the werewolves, landing almost gently against Boyd, who grabbed her around her waist and held her steady. They watched in silence as Stiles stood fully, twisting and cracking his body back into place without even a wince, his black eyes finally falling to the vampire again when his body had been fixed.

The vampire had backed up against the warehouse, calculating the turn of events, staring at Stiles in consideration. The two watched each other silently as Stiles walked back to the pack, tense, until he stood between them and the vampire again. He held himself deceptively loose in the shoulders, head steady, his tense hands at his side betraying his readiness.

The vampire laughed.

“Child of Hell.” It hissed, voice scratched and grating. “It’s been a long time since I’ve crossed paths with one of you.”

“I think it’ll be in all of our best interests if you leave now, and make it longer.” Stiles replied.

A screech of amusement. “How uncommon to find one so invested in the wellbeing of mortal monsters. And humans. You hide your stench well, you play your part perfectly. Have you re-found yourself, or is this merely part of a greater plot?” it mocked.

“I don’t see how that's any of your business. Now go away, or I’ll squash you.” Stiles said. He lifted his arm again. Boyd and Derek wrinkled their noses and growled, and even Allison could smell the sharp stench of… sulfur, she realized. The air smelled of sulfur.

The vampire regarded Stiles with a wide grin on its face, showing off all its teeth, head tilted in consideration. For a long moment Allison thought it would leave, faced now with Stiles’ unknown power. But they weren’t that lucky.

It was basically suicidal, Allison realized afterwards. Either the vampire had been too dumb to realize that it shouldn’t attack something of unknown power, or the vampire was tired and done with the fight. They had known going into the fight that the vampire was very old: perhaps it was tired of everything else, too.

Either way, it was the beginning of the end when the vampire leaped again at Stiles, claws and teeth at the ready, eyes burning. But this time Stiles had had whole minutes to prepare, and with a ripping sound he brought his arms across and grabbed the vampire with his unseen power, holding it still briefly before squeezing, twisting and clenching his fingers until the vampire was suspended in the air, wailing in pain and rage as it was crushed.

Allison thought she was going to be sick. Boyd didn’t seem much better, from how he was shaking as he held both Allison and Derek. Derek, skin pale and sweating, watched in mute dread as Stiles calmly crushed the vampire to death. The air was rank with sulfur, blood, and the sting of satisfaction, and it was the last scent that scared Derek almost as much as the first, because while the first scent suggested a problem it was the last that confirmed it.

That wasn’t Stiles anymore.

With a final gurgle of foaming blood, the vampire went limp, and a quick flick of the teenager’s wrist cut the head off and sent it sailing away. The body made a final twitch before stilling completely, and Stiles held it suspended for another few seconds to be sure before sending it flying back into the warehouse wall with a satisfied crunch.

The pack members who were still standing could only stare as Stiles heaved a breath, cracking his neck and stretching his arms as though he had just finished a workout routine. And he turned to the pack, face calm, eyes still horrifyingly black. Boyd and Allison recoiled, breaths catching. Derek snarled, already feeling stronger as the vampire’s death caused its poison to begin to fade from their bodies.

“….Are you guys alright?” Stiles asked, voice wane and a little shaky. A long pause, and Allison nodded shortly. Stiles huffed a breath of laughter then, lips curling into a small smile and the black receding from his eyes until the familiar warm brown was back. “Sorry about throwing you.” He managed to say, before his eyes rolled up and he slumped to the ground in unconsciousness.

 

+

 

There was a flurry of activity after Stiles hit the ground. Suddenly Derek was growling out instructions in a voice so harried and angry that Boyd and Allison wouldn’t have dared to hesitate to follow his orders, despite the shock they were both still feeling. Boyd was sent sprinting for the Den with instructions to get a particular book, a small latched box under Derek’s bed, and – strangely – as much salt as he could find. Since the vampire’s poison had begun to dissipate with its death, Allison was made to wake the other werewolves as quickly as she could, slapping them if necessary, which caused much indignation from Scott as soon as he came around. Derek, for his part, prowled on shaky legs around the still form of Stiles, half wolfed-out and eyes burning red, a continuous growl emitting from his throat.

The moment Erica and Isaac could stand they were told to go and check on Lydia and Jackson and then to go back to the Den and clear out the panic room as fast as they could. Soon after they left Boyd called to say he had found the stuff and Derek told him that Isaac and Erica were on their way. Allison listened as he gave instructions to look up something called a _diaboli captionem_ in the book he had found, bookmark it, and then take the salt and line the edges of the panic room with it. Derek had hung up, looked down at the still prone form of Stiles with a face full of distrust, then bent down and rummaged through the boy’s pockets until he retrieved the Jeep’s keys. His lips were curled in revulsion.

He tossed the keys to Alison, who was supporting a still groggy and completely baffled Scott. “Take Scott in the Jeep and get to the Den. Now.” He snapped, and Allison just nodded and hauled her boyfriend away, tersely trying to answer his slurred questions.

Derek looked back at Stiles on the ground, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, before he forced himself to grab Stiles’ body gingerly and sling him over his shoulder, grimacing and making his way as fast as he could to his Camaro. He hesitated, torn, before setting his mouth and opening the trunk, carefully folding Stiles into it, every movement accompanied by a sickening combination of sorrow and loathing, closing the trunk with a careful thunk. Trembling slightly, Derek placed his hands on the trunk lid, eyes shut tight, nostrils flaring as they took in the still heavy scent of sulfur in the air. He swallowed convulsively, feeling wretched and sick, as he slowly came to terms with the fact that one of his worst nightmares had come true.

 


	2. Some days I feel like I'm wrong when I am right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Derek got to the Den the air was rank with fear and confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you guys thanks so much for all your positive responses! I’m glad other people are enjoying this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Here's the next chapter, earlier than I anticipated. Again, I am sorry that I can’t post faster, I’m just a reeeaaaally slow writer. Thank you for having patience with me.
> 
> You’ll note that I messed with the tags a bit: I added horror because there will be some weird and creepy stuff happening, and I took out the Allison/Scott pairing tag. There will still be Allison/Scott (and also Erica/Boyd and Lydia/Jackson) in the fic, but there wont be much focus on them so I didn’t want to lead fans who are looking for a lot of that into my fic and have them be disappointed. If you think I should put those tags back in just let me know, I’m flexible.

The Den was a title coined by Stiles that the rest of the pack had adopted mostly because it bugged Derek. Three years ago when Derek had finally left the old train station behind and gotten an apartment, the pack had quickly realized that trying to fit six werewolves and three humans into one apartment was not good math. So after much hunting and arguing amongst everyone, they had found an old two story house with a basement on the outskirts of town, near the old Hale house. Since secretly Derek was rich not only because he was part an old family but also from the insurance settlement from his whole family being dead, he had immediately bought it and the pack had started making it a werewolf haven, complete with insane soundproofing, security measures, and a huge kitchen and living room. Not even a week had gone by before Stiles had started referring it to the Wolf Den, which for whatever reason annoyed Derek, and so everyone had leapt on the term. Complete after a few months, the Den was a retreat and haven for any member of the pack and the location for most pack get-togethers. Derek spent more time there than he did at his apartment now, and it felt like a second or even first home for all the members of the pack. It was comfortable, and it was safe.

Especially because of the panic room.

The panic room was designed originally for keeping the humans safe, although Stiles, Allison, and Lydia had had none of that so far. It had since been used for the occasional time when the full moon was just too much for one of the wolves and they had to be locked up until they could get control again. Underground and with no windows, it could be locked and opened from the inside or outside, but not both at the same time, so it could be used as panic room or containment area depending on the need. Under the current circumstances, Derek really hoped they weren’t going to need to use it as a containment area.

When Derek got to the Den the air was rank with fear and confusion. Immediately he was set upon by a frantic Scott, Isaac, and Erica, Jackson piping up from the back of the room, and Lydia demanding explanations from the couch. Boyd and Allison stood back, pale and wary. Normally Derek tried to be patient and helpful – it was something he was working on, honest – but now was not the time for that. Things needed to happen fast.

“ _Everyone be quiet, NOW.”_ He snarled, Alpha dominance saturating every word. Like a switch was thrown everyone instantly went silent, eyes wide and metaphorical tails between their legs. Derek attempted a calming breath, but he was far too agitated and on the verge of panic for it to do much good. “Boyd, give me the book and the box. Jackson and Isaac follow me. Everyone else take the salt and line my room with it. Put it everywhere, on the windowsills, along the door, _everywhere_ something can get in or out _._ Make sure the lines are not broken. And keep some in your pockets. And _stay in the room._ Don't question me, do it _now._ ”

A long moment of confused hesitation and the pack scrambled, jumping to his orders. Derek grabbed Boyd as he passed. “Boyd, I need you to take a big bag of salt with you and go to my car. Line the salt around the car and spread it over the trunk. Whatever you do, whatever you hear, _do not open the trunk_ and don’t let the salt line break _._ Call for me the moment he wakes up. Do you understand?” Mouth pursed, the dark teen nodded. “Good, then go. I’ll be out soon.” Derek watched in satisfaction as Boyd quickly went to his task. Of the group Boyd was the least likely to be swayed by Stiles’ potential pleading for release; not only was he solid in his orders, but he had also seen what had happened with the vampire. He’d know better than to trust anything that came out of the trunk.

Leading Jackson and Isaac downstairs, he found the panic room satisfyingly empty. Opening the book to the page Boyd had marked, he looked over the diagram and accompanying words with a careful eye before showing it to the boys. “We need to draw this, _exactly_ , onto the floor. Large enough for a person to stand in. Don't rush, we can’t afford mistakes, but we don’t have a lot of time.” Jackson and Isaac, although burning with questions, simply nodded and they got to work. It was excruciating work, scratching the complex symbols into the floor, having to go slow enough so they wouldn’t mess up but quickly enough that they would be finished before Stiles woke up.

The moment they were done Derek was herding the two back upstairs towards his room, leaving them on the main floor to head back outside to his car. Boyd looked up, face grim, and shook his head to indicate that Stiles hadn’t woken up yet.

Derek sighed at the small miracle. Together he and Boyd opened the trunk and man-handled Stiles’ limp body from the car and down to the panic room. They lay Stiles’ body gently on the floor in the middle of the symbols scratched into the concrete, tucking his long limbs so they were all inside the markings.

For a short while they stood staring at their friend, their packmate. Derek could hear the panicked fluttering of Boyd’s heart and appreciated that his levelheaded beta wouldn’t mention his own wreaked heartbeat. Taking a breath, Boyd rubbed his eyes. “I asked Lydia to translate the paragraph on the diagram. _Devil’s Trap?_ Do you… Derek, what’s going on? What happened to Stiles?”

His voice suggested that he already suspected what was happening but couldn’t believe it. Derek could hardly believe it. He clenched his fists at his sides. “I’ll tell you when we get upstairs.” and turned to walk out of the panic room, Boyd following closely behind, and closing the room’s iron door.

 

+

 

His pack was huddled on Derek’s large bed, taking comfort in the closeness of each other, talking furiously and grilling Allison about what had happened. They quieted as Derek and Boyd entered the room, the beta immediately going to crouch at the side of the bed and curling his arms around Erica, who huddled back towards him. The pack watched with tension rising as their Alpha paced the room, inspecting the salt lines. Satisfied, he turned to his pack, crossing his arms.

“Where’s Stiles?” Allison spoke first, fierce accusation in her voice. She didn’t flinch as Derek’s eyes met hers, but she bit her lip, nervous but unwilling to back down. Derek wondered if she thought he had done something to Stiles, like killed him. He would never admit that the thought had crossed him mind, albeit so briefly that he was almost able to convince himself that he hadn’t stooped to that level yet. It’s not like it would have done anything, anyways.

“Locked in the panic room.” He held up his hands to stem the next wave of furious questioning and curled his lips to show his fangs. To show he was deadly serious about what he would say next. “I am only going to say this once, so listen up: until I say otherwise you are to assume that the thing downstairs is not Stiles. Yes, I am serious. We are dealing with something extremely dangerous here, something that I hoped I would never have to face.” His features hardened even more, trying to keep the miasmic mess of emotions inside so his pack wouldn’t panic even more. “If I’m right, we can save Stiles. Everything will go back to normal, so long as you _do as I say.”_

Stunned silence followed. Everyone seemed to be struggling with the news that their pack member was in such a state as to warrant them assuming that he wasn’t even himself. Derek could feel the rising urge to protect their own in everyone, even the humans, and allowed himself the small satisfaction that always came when he saw evidences of a working and loving pack. Finally Lydia spoke up, eyes burning with the desire to know. “What is it then? And what do we do to help him?”

Derek hesitated. “…I think it’s a demon.”

“You _think_ -“

“A Demon??”

“But wait what’s-“

Derek held up a hand again. “I _think_ because I’ve never encountered one before, but the signs are all there. The sulfur, the telekinesis, and especially the black eyes. I was told about them when I was a kid, and they’re mentioned in a few of my books, but I don’t even know anyone who has dealt with one personally. It’s all theory.”

“But, how did _Stiles_ become a demon?” Scott asked, face creased in worry.

The Alpha hesitated. “He’s… been possessed. A demon can’t survive on earth without taking a host, someone else’s body as its own. They push everything of their host to the side and take their place, taking their consciousness. Stiles is still in there, we just have to get the demon out. There’s an incantation we can use to force it out. Lydia, you’re the best at archaic latin. I want you to learn it, the correct way to say it, and teach it to the others just in case.” Derek tossed the book towards Lydia, bookmark still in place. She caught it deftly, opening to the right page but still looking at Derek.

In the brief moment of silence that followed, Derek kept his ears strained for noises from the panic room. It was hard to hear through the layers of house and the metal lined walls of the room, but he could still hear Stiles’ even breathing of sleep.

And that was just another thing that worried and confused him. It was true that his knowledge on demons was limited, but he distinctly remembered being told that demons weren’t really alive, and that the bodies they took were borrowed and stolen from humans. When the demon in Stiles had passed out Derek had been surprised, but the fact that Stiles hadn’t then woken up since the demon had supposedly been unconscious was severely troubling. Was both Stiles and the Demon just asleep? And then there was the fact that none of them had _noticed_ when Stiles had been possessed by a fuckin demon; was he really such a bad alpha that he couldn’t even tell the difference when one of his own pack became possessed? Surely there had to be signs that Derek just didn’t know about.

Not to mention the absolutely baffling part where the demon _had saved their asses_. That was concern number two, directly after how to get the demon out of Stiles and right before how little about demons Derek seemed to know. First thing he was going to do after all this was read everything he could get his hands on about the creatures of hell.

“So why aren’t we just getting rid of it?” Jackson asks, breaking the silence, his normally too-cool-to-be-stressed voice wavering in concern.  “What are we waiting for?”

Derek’s frown deepened. “… I need to know why it saved us. It’s possible that there is some bigger plan going on, and that it needs our trust. We don’t know how long it’s been in Stiles; we need to know that too. I’m going to question it. The rest of you are to stay here.”

“NO.”

Scott leaped off the bed, snarl already on his lips. Derek’s eyes snapped to him, flashing red in warning, but Scott ignored it. “I’m going down with you.”

“This isn’t up for deba-“

“I am NOT staying up here.” Scott growled, even as his wolf wanted to shy away from his alpha’s anger. “Stiles has been my pack for _way_ longer than I’ve been part of yours. We’ve been friends since we were ten. I’m going down with you.”

Derek took in the stubborn jut of Scott’s jaw, his gold flashing eyes, and secretly he was proud. Scott was growing into his wolf well, and someday he could probably become a good alpha. But for now he needed to understand his place. He knew even less about the situation than Derek did; Scott didn’t understand the danger they were all in. But Derek could see the wisdom of having someone that knew Stiles so well with him downstairs.

The rest of the pack huddled as Derek approached Scott, eyes bleeding red, until he was looming over him. Scott barely flinched as Derek pulled back his lips over his teeth. “You may come down, but you will do as I say without questioning me, do you understand? I acknowledge your concern, but this situation is _far_ beyond your understanding.”

“Then _tell us-_ “

“There’s no _time_.” Derek snarled. He took a breath, trying to center himself again. Mostly gone were the days when he tried to have people trust him simply based on his position of power. Now he tried to explain everything as best he could, but there were times when that just wasn’t feasible. “I’m surprised that the demon hasn’t woken up already. We need to be able to move and act as quickly as possible and you are just going to have to _trust me_ for now.”

His eyes flicked over the rest of the pack, who nodded hesitantly – some mutinously – but all understanding the gravity of the situation. He focused back on Scott, who was glowering still, but his eyes had faded back to black. He nodded too, and Derek stepped back. Allison immediately stood and twined her hand with Scott’s, who clutched back tightly, adrenaline and worry making his arm tremble slightly. Her smile was tight but sincere when she pressed it against Scott’s temple in a kiss, and he breathed in the scent of his anchor and was able to control himself again. Derek could already see that Allison was going to come down with them: where Scott went, she went. Years before, Scott would have protested her coming along even louder than Derek would out of concern for her safety, but after almost three years of her saving his ass Scott finally understood that she could take care of herself. The instinct to shelter would never leave, but at least the fights between the two when Scott got overly protective had stopped. Mostly.

Derek glared at her to make sure she understood that she was under the same orders as Scott, then eyeballed the rest of the pack. “Stay here. Keep the salt lines intact; the demon can’t cross them. If you need to defend yourself against it then throw as much salt at is as you can. Lydia, I’ll call for you when I need you. Everyone learn the incantation. We’ll be back soon.” _Hopefully,_ he didn’t say as he lead the way to the panic room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honest to god don't keep meaning to make these end in cliffhangers, I promise, it just HAPPENS. Next chapter we'll be getting back to Stiles.  
> Chapter title comes from Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men.


	3. Deep in my bones, straight from inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles’ head came up, his eyes a warm brown and a grin on his face. “Man, it’s about time you guys got down here, I was getting bored.” Something in Derek’s chest twisted at the familiarity, the similarity to Stiles was impeccable. His lip curled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so horribly sorry, this took way longer than I was ever expecting but I had some horrendous writers block it was frustrating as hell. But we’re finally back with Stiles! 
> 
> I’m placing a creepiness/horror/possibly even trigger warning on this chapter for talk of still-born/brain dead babies. I’m not sure if I actually need to warn for it but I’m being cautious (I have a difficult time gauging what counts as horror or not). It’s hard to warn for what happens without spoiling so if you’re concerned there is a more detailed and spoilerific description at the bottom of the chapter.

It was with trepidation that Derek opened the panic room’s door to find Stiles already awake. There was still no change in his heartbeat or breathing, both were the same from when he had passed out earlier, only now he was sitting upright rather than being sprawled on the floor. Derek’s anxiety mounted when he realized that he had no idea how long Stiles had been awake.

Stiles’ head was hung so they couldn’t see his face, but he was sitting patiently cross-legged on the floor as though he wasn’t trapped there, hands tapping against his legs. Allison and Scott had crowded against the wall near the door, reeking of confusion and fear, but determined nonetheless. Derek stood outside of the trap in front of the demon, arms crossed and glowering.

Stiles’ head came up, his eyes a warm brown and a grin on his face. “Man, it’s about time you guys got down here, I was getting bored.” Something in Derek’s chest twisted at the familiarity, the similarity to Stiles was impeccable. His lip curled.

“We were deciding what to do with you.” He said, body tense.

The demon nodded. “Good to see you’re still going strong with the actual plans. Glad you got over that rut last year.” He laughed shortly. “It was pretty damn messy before then huh?”

“Stop.” Derek growled shortly, and the demon flinched. “Just stop, we know you’re not Stiles, so stop pretending.”

All expression fell from Stiles’ face, and the demon stared up at Derek with resignation in Stiles’ brown eyes. It was silent, gauging, and when it spoke it was still with Stiles’ indignation: “I’m not pretending.”

“Like hell you’re not.”

“Look, I don’t expect you to believe me right off-“

“Just shut up.” Derek barked loudly, and to his surprise the demon snapped its mouth closed, face shifting to the mutinous one Stiles always wore when Derek pulled the alpha card on him. Often times it lead to Stiles just disregarding the order and carrying on, but this time the demon stayed quiet, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

It was all so much like Stiles that Derek began to wonder hysterically just how long the demon had been possessing him.

“Who are you?” Derek demanded. “Who are you and where is Stiles?” _Please let him still be in there_ …

The demon sighed. “ _I’m_ Stiles.”

“Liar.” Derek spat.

“I’m really not.” It gritted out, teeth clenching in frustration.

“Who are you and how long have you been possessing Stiles?” Derek said, volume rising.

“I’m _telling_ you that _I’m-_ “

“ _Stop lying._ You’re not-”

“I AM Stiles!” Stiles hissed, leaping to his feet and eyes turning black. Derek snarled, eyes flashing red in warning, and the two creatures stared at each other, Derek fists clenched hard and Sti-.. the demon, toeing at the edge of its cage. Eventually the demon heaved a breath and stepped back, eyes changing back to Stiles’ brown, and it ran a hand over his hair in frustration.

“Use your head. Use your nose and your ears and whatever. Tell me I’m lying! Tell me I’ve changed _at all_ from the time that you met me to now.” This it directed to Scott, who was standing in the corner of the room with Allison’s arms around him. He was wide eyed and pale, staring at his best friend with a complicated array of emotions on his face. Mostly he looked stunned. “ _Go on!”_  Stiles yelled at him, and Scott shook himself, face wrinkling in concentration.

He shook his head. “It’s… Derek, he hasn’t changed. He still smells the same. He hasn’t changed since, well, _I_ changed. He’s always sort of smelled like mat- uh, sulfur I guess.”

Derek’s mouth tightened. Stiles’ eyes met his again in challenge. That was the problem though, wasn’t it? Stiles’ heartbeat never fluctuated indicating a lie, although Derek would bet anything that a creature like a demon could honestly lie like nothing else. But the scent? Could a demon hide that _so well_ that a werewolf couldn’t tell the difference between a possessed person and their normal scent? Except that, like Scott had said, Stiles had always smelled a little… different than other humans. But not enough to set off any warning bells in Derek’s head. Humans came in a large variety of smells. The only time it became a noticeable difference was when…

Derek took a deep, calming breath. “Why did you use your powers then? With the vampire?”

Stiles pursed his lips. “I was trying to save you guys. Nice thanks for that, by the way.”

“Doesn’t seem like very demonic behavior.”

“I’m one of a kind, dude.”

“But _why_?” Derek demanded.

 _“_ Because you were in danger.” Stiles said slowly like he was an idiot.

“But why not _before?_ If you were always Stiles, if you always had that kind of power, then why _now?”_

“Because I'M in danger!” Stiles finally exploded, throwing his hands up in frustration, scent spiked with apprehension and, of all things, fear.

The others stared at him.

The demon heaved a sigh and sat back on the floor, dropping his head into his hands and rubbing his eyes. He was silent for a moment, before looking back up to Derek, then over to Scott and Allison.

“I’m on the run, ok? Yeah, I’m a demon, but… well, I don’t know how much theology you guys know, but demons… we used to be humans.”

Scott and Allison looked stunned, while Derek just nodded jerkily. Stiles smirked at him in approval. “Your family’s library was pretty comprehensive, huh?” He exhaled slowly, pensively. “Human souls, when sent to Hell, get beat up. We get tortured, twisted, blackened and burned. We’re broken down until we finally give in and become demons. It’s just… it’s impossible to resist. We all break down eventually. A lot of demons forget that they were human once. Some of us remember. But even less of us care anymore.”

“Which were you?” Allison spoke up, eyes wide.

Stiles paused, face in shadow, before he turned to look at her, and Scott tensed around her in fear at the dark expression on his face. It was cold and almost murderous. It was nothing like the Stiles he had known forever. “I remembered,” he said quietly. “But I didn’t care.

“But then I got in trouble with my superiors.” Stiles said, turning back to Derek with a sardonic smile on his face. “I was never very good at the torture part of it all, especially the mental stuff. Not enough focus. Too much,” he waved his hands in the air to indicate himself. “I honestly didn’t like it much. I was sent on a mission to earth: tempt and feed the nasty, nasty thoughts of this hotshot in this business who wanted to get higher in the company. Boy, he was a piece of work, too; lots of fun stuff he wanted to do to his boss. And his boss’ wife.” Stiles smirked at the others’ expressions of shock, and then slowly frowned. “But I botched it. Couldn’t get him to make the deal, couldn’t get to him before the good Samaritan did. And _my_ boss? Wasn’t happy.

So I booked it. Having to go back to Hell is bad enough, but going back to Hell to face my boss? It was enough that I’d rather die. Again. So I ditched my meatsuit and ran for a while, jumping from person to person to hide my trace, until I found it.”

“Found what?” Scott said quietly.

Stiles grinned. “The perfect hiding place. Someone who couldn't force me out or leave a stench of fear for my boss to follow. Someone where no one would ever notice a change of behavior. Something that could become my own body, instead of a borrowed one.” He paused, grin falling slightly. “…A stillborn baby.”

The demon was quiet as he let that sink in. Scott immediately turned green, Allison’s mouth dropped open in horror. Derek’s fists were clenched tight, and he bit out through gritted teeth. “The Stillinski’s…?”

“Bingo.”

Scott looked like he was going to be sick, swallowing convulsively until Allison wrapped herself tighter around him. Stiles watched them, expression almost blank except for the pinched sadness around his eyes. “The doctors called it a miracle.” He said softly. “The baby was weak enough that the chance of survival was real small. The Stillinski’s decided to give it a shot, anyways. What they didn’t know was that their little boy was practically brain dead, and his body would have died in a matter of hours because he wouldn’t have been able to nurse. They had given birth to a vegetable.” Stiles flinched a little, and looked down. “I… I’m sorry…. That might have been too insensitive.” He mumbled.

“Why do you care?” Derek growled, and Stiles’ head snapped up. “You’re a demon, why do you care if you’re insensitive? _Tell me_ why do you care if we survive or not?”

The demon stared at him again, brown eyes assessing, Derek’s hackles rising with every passing second. “I didn’t care.” Stiles finally said. “I didn’t, until 10 years ago.”

Scott made a noise of surprise. Derek’s eyes flickered to him and then back to Stiles. “Why, what happened then?”

“That's… that's when his mom died…” Scott said quietly.

“Barbra Stillinski.” Stiles murmured, sitting back in the chair and crossing his arms. His gaze flickered between the three stunned gazes towards him. “When I took over the baby’s body, I was fully conscious. _I_ didn’t change, but the body was brand new, untrained and unable. It was a long a frustrating childhood, logically _knowing_ how to do things but not being able to make the body do what I want. And then, when it was finally strong enough, I still had to act like a child. I had to suppress basically everything that made me a demon so that people wouldn’t catch on. Or so another demon wouldn’t find me. So I let the body age normally, I had to eat, had to _learn_ how to be a human again. It drove me crazy. Scott, you remember me before mom died?”

Scott nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, you were… well, everyone was kind of scared of you.” He shrugged at Derek and Allison’s incredulity. “He was always making trouble, getting into fights. He was pretty nasty to everyone. He didn’t have any friends, he caused trouble in classes, and he got suspended so much that he was basically never in school. This was before…”

“Before Barbara died?” Allison asked.

“Yeah.”

Stiles’ hands tightened on his arms and his lips pursed. “Mom an… Barbara and John tolerated a lot of shit from me. I tried to be better around them, since they were basically my safe house, but it was hard. I’ve been a demon for a very long time, and that's one bad habit that's hard to break. Plus I was frustrated with the whole can’t- _be_ -a-demon thing. I could tell that Barbara was getting sick way before the doctors figured it out, and by the time they did there wasn’t anything they could do.” He swallowed, fingers clenched white on his arms. “The stress of dealing with me had deteriorated her health too quickly.” He paused, inhaling a shaky breath. “The night before she died, she took me into her arms and she held me and she said ‘I’m sorry’. _She_ was apologizing to _me_. Even after everything I had done to her and dad, she was so sorry that she was leaving me, her son, behind. She told me to be strong, that she forgave me for how I acted because it was hard to be a kid, that she hoped that I could find something to be strong for. She told me to take care of dad. She told me she loved me. She died smiling, holding my hand.” He swallowed hard again, eyes shuttering black before he closed them tight, sadness creasing his face.

The other three were completely silent.

Heaving a calming breath, Stiles’ face relaxed and he hunched forwards in a slump, eyes still closed, hand rubbing his face. “She made me remember my life as a human. She reminded me of my grandfather, who had taken care of me, who had tried to protect me even after all the terrible things I had done while I was still alive. He had still loved me, and I remembered that I still loved him. And I cared again. I tried to keep dad from drinking himself to death, I tried to pick up my grades in school, I tried to behave better. Was on my way to becoming a good son. It was hard, but I felt like… I felt like I owed it to her. I went to therapy, I was able to use mom’s death as a reason for my change in behavior, and I found that it was, well, easier like this. I didn’t feel quite so… I dunno, it just felt _better_ to smile and make jokes and do well in school. I guess it just felt good to be human again. It helped that I had finally made a friend.” He opened his eyes and grinned at Scott, who tried to smile back although it was a wane attempt. “I still don’t know why you ever tried, Scott.”

The werewolf half-shrugged. “You, I dunno, you just seemed really lonely. And way less mean at that point. I felt bad for you.”

“You always have to be a hero, don't you.” Stiles smirked, and turned to face Derek. He raised his eyebrows, cocked his head and spread his arms. “So there you have it. That's my story. I was always here, I’ve never not been Stiles. I was hiding my mojo because if I used it, demonic activity would show up on _someone’s_ radar and my cover would be blown. Probably _has_ been blown, by now. So yeah, by the way, thanks for nothing for making me care enough about you guys to save you.” Stiles pouted.

Silence. Derek’s ears seemed to ring with it, muddled only by the nervous-fast heartbeats of Scott and Allison, and the anticipatory thrum of Stiles’. His eyes held Stiles’, searching desperately for anything out of the ordinary, anything he could find to show he was lying. It would all be so much easier if he was lying.

“Scott. Allison. Outside, now.” He gritted out, watching Stiles until the two had reluctantly shuffled outside the panic room before following them out. Closing the door behind himself, he acknowledged Isaac standing there, looking appropriately guilty but standing close to Scott, hands stuffed in his pockets and radiating concern. Derek had no doubt that he had listened in on everything, which didn’t surprise him at all. Isaac and Stiles had become almost as close as Scott and Stiles over the past few years, the trio forming a tight bond of friendship. Derek would be lying if he said he’d seen it coming, but he was glad that Isaac had friends. The kid sure needed them.

Derek focused on Scott, who was clenching his jaw and staring back at him from under furrowed brows. Derek had hardly opened his mouth before Scott said “I believe him.” in no uncertain tones.

Derek had suspected as much. Scott continued, gesturing widely at the closed door. “Derek, if I hadn’t heard what you guys told me, or if I hadn’t seen his eyes change, I would never have known there was something different. I don’t think there _is_ anything different. I mean, like he said, I think he’s just always been like that. I think he’s telling the truth.” Scott heaved a breath, and shook his head. “I _know_ he’s telling the truth.”

Derek could feel his resolve wavering, but past experiences had chewed him up and spit him out with the knowledge that sometimes you just have to listen to what your head tells you instead of your emotions. “Scott, you don’t know what demons are capable of.” Derek said.

“But I know what Stiles is capable of, and yeah he can be pretty weird and cruel sometimes, jesus even I know that, but… I just, it’s hard to say, it's a pack feeling. I just know that Stiles is telling the truth, that he would never hurt me. That he would never hurt _us_.”

It was a curious thing, Derek thought, that Scott had been so belligerently resistant to being turned years ago, and so much crap had happened because of it, and now Scott was standing here and being so in tune with his wolf-made instincts that he was beginning to sound like an alpha.

Because Derek trusted his betas, he trusted all his wolves – even Scott – because his own intuition about their emotions was so strong that it was a knowledge rather than a simple feeling. It was part of the connection between an Alpha and their pack: the ability to read them. Derek didn’t have it with the humans, in part because they weren’t werewolves, but also because he understood that they weren’t there for him, even if they were technically pack. Lydia wouldn’t have given him the time of day if Jackson wasn’t so keen on learning everything there was about being a werewolf. Allison followed Scott because not only did someone really need to take care of him, but also because they were in love. And Stiles…

Scott had been right, Stiles had been part of Scott’s pack long before Derek ever came into the picture, and Derek was smart to have no illusions about that.

Derek had zero illusions about who would go and who would stay when Scott finally left to become his own packs’ Alpha.

He hissed out a sigh. “Fine. If you think he’s telling the truth, then I’ll trust you.” At Scott’s, Allison’s, and Isaac’s disbelief he continued. “I don’t trust it, but you know him far better than I do.” So I’ll trust you, he left unsaid, and Scott wilted from the combination of relief and the weight of his conviction. Derek turned, opening the door and re-entering the panic room, meeting the curiosity and suspicion in Stiles’ eyes with his own resignation, and standing in front of the trap again. The trio followed, standing closer now to the trap, but still behind and to the side of Derek, deferring to his authority over the situation.

“They’ve convinced me you’re telling the truth.” Derek said flatly, and Stiles’ eyes brightened in surprise as they flickered to Scott, Allison, and Isaac.

“But _you_ don’t think I am?” Stiles asked, looking back at the alpha.

Derek’s mouth thinned. “I know better than they do what demons are. But… they also know you better than I can ever hope to.” A strange expression crossed Stiles’ face before being replaced with a small but genuine smile.

“Thanks man.” He said sincerely to Scott, and his friend grinned back.

“Yeah, just… try and let me know if there’s any other life changing secrets, okay?”

“I’d say ‘but if I told you then I’d have to kill you’ but I think that falls under the Too Soon category.” Stiles snarked, causing a bubble of nervous laughter to escape from Isaac. “So there’s probably nothing I can do to convince you that I’m trustworthy, huh?” He stated to Derek, who shook his head tightly.

“No.”

Stiles’ smile turned sad. “So, probably not even the fact that I could have walked out of the trap at any time? Your runes need some work.” And with that he stepped pointedly over the trap’s edge. Derek felt a cold frisson race up his spine as Stiles stood in front of him, toe to toes, ready for his reaction.

Derek bared his teeth. It was hard. His instincts were tearing him in two directions: one that said Stiles _was_ pack, Stiles was a friend and nothing had changed. He could _trust_ him, like he had come to. The other said that things _had_ changed, he couldn’t trust the creature in front of him, that demons were built to lie and deceive. He was a muddled mix of emotions and logic and he wished uselessly for this to have happened to anyone other than someone of his pack. “I still don’t trust you.” He bit out, hating every word

Stiles’ face hardened, the resigned smile on his lips twisted in pain. “I know.” He said quietly, and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Basically the demon possessed the Stillinski’s still-born/brain-dead baby and became Stiles that way. I’m not always sure what counts as horror because my baseline scale starts with cannibalism and gets worse from there, so I'm not a very good judge. 
> 
> Chapter title comes from Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone who likes this so far, let me love you. It's been a long time since I've attempted a multi-chapter fic. I'll try to keep updating expediently but I should warn you, I am notoriously bad at keeping up with update schedules for fics. I hope you’ll have patience with me.  
> Chapter titles are all lyrics from my Teen Wolf playlist. This one is from Awolnation's Sail  
> Fic title may change in the future


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